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July 8, 2019
I get rid of garbage at Ortigas station, too. My father brings me a change of clothes and my favorite pack of chips every three days. It's day #65 now, and I keep wishing for the "food stops"—as I now call them—to be at Shaw Blvd so that it's nearer to my father. I live here now, I decided last night. This is going to be my life. Other days I come to my senses and think of ways to remedy this...neverending journey. Someone once told me: "One week is too long." I've been here two months.